Déjà vu at Shibuya Station
by regeris
Summary: Coming home from college, nineteen-year-old Kouji Minamoto wonders why, although life looks the same, his world feels like it's about to collapse. Three-shot.
1. Down the Memory Lane

**Needless to say, I own none of the characters or events mentioned in this story, perhaps aside from my own musings. This is a highly personal work that I didn't really take the time to polish, but I'm a nineteen year old college student so hell, I'm allowed to write bad fanfiction. I had a mind-bending obsession with Digimon in my youth and after thinking a lot about life, I watched Frontier and Tamers again for nostalgia's sake and here I am, obsessed again. I see this story (more like a soliloquy, but nevertheless) as a summary of why I loved, and still love this anime, because it showed me the human condition in simple, unpretentious language that even a child like me could understand. **

**I always saw Kouji as a reflection of myself, and have frequently wondered what happens to the kids after the Digimon adventures. But behind it all, I, like Kouji, am a confused teenager trying to find my way in the world. Enjoy it, if you haven't fallen asleep by now, but I might be in way over my head putting out something this idiosyncratic.**

It's rush hour at the Shibuya station. Walk too fast and all you hear is a blurry cacophony, but stop to listen, to _really_ hear the pulse of this monstrous crowd, you might pick out the beeping of electronic gates opening and shutting, the hoarse shouting of woman in office attire into her phone, the urgent clickity-clackity of shoes dispersing in all directions, and the wailing of an infant bewildered by this flurry of activity. Legs, all sorts of legs, crossing over one another. Legs in childish pink shoes, legs with stockings and office skirts, legs with formal trousers, legs in constant motion, not guided by any drill sergeant yet marching with the fury of a thousand armies. One pair of legs in black sneakers stopped in front of an elevator, and the river of life simply parted for him and flowed on, as if unaware of his presence.

Nineteen-year-old Kouji Minamoto fingered the control panel of the elevator where he first met Takuya, wondering if the same buttons could take him back to Flame Terminal. Such a thorn at his side at first, thought Kouji, Takuya would have been the closest thing to a brother to him if not for Kouichi. Junpei had a field day with the "bromance" jokes, and the rest of the gang had a hard time picturing them fighting apart: so hard, that Izumi felt compelled to offer dates to them _both_, as if that could ever work out in reality! But where is Takuya now? That's easy to answer facetiously: He's studying Business Administration at the University of Tokyo, and still as big a gamer as ever. On the outside, you could say some things never change, but who knows what Takuya is _really_ going through?

If Kouji were to be honest with himself, he didn't have much in common with the rest of the gang ever since they'd met, and after all they had been through, they're still fundamentally different people with very different callings in life. Every reunion felt a little more forced and the "how are you doing?" became obligatory. If anything was going on in the inner lives of these soon-to-be adults, you couldn't tell. Every meeting prompted a laundry list of new developments from everyone, and by the end ninety percent of what had been said was forgotten primarily because nobody really cared. They tried to, in good faith, but the narrative of other lives is trivial compared to the turmoils of young adulthood. Kouji felt alienated and awkward at these gatherings but he didn't have the heart to stop attending, as if by disappearing from the group, something in him would die for good. As he learned watching rings of data seep from his own flesh, there is a terrifying finality in death.

But the people Kouji saw prattling on about nothing are the very kids who brought out the best in him and showed him what he could be. They were the first people outside of his family to love him without reserve, with all his brusque manners and disagreeable temperament. They didn't understand his brooding nature or what he could possibly think about during those long hours of silence away from the group, but they embraced him all the same. Back in the real world, the years wore away their childish resolve to always be together; phone calls and e-mails became scarce. They went from seeing each other every other day to once a month, and finally, they're lucky to meet once a year. For all his anger at them, Kouji had to acknowledge the unwelcome reality of his own failings. He might be sharply critical of the imperfections of others, but it dosen't begin to touch how harsh he is on himself.

Now that he's in college, he has less and less time for the cares that occupied his childhood. _And people_. He said to himself. With his new station in life as a young, independent adult, he is all too aware that nothing will ever be the same, not in the way he relates to old friends, nor in the way he makes new friends. Even his nuclear family suddenly seems alien to him, as though something essential snapped that needed to be rebuilt from the ground up: he's not his parents' little boy anymore, and with adulthood came a whole new set of expectations.

After he returned from the Digital World, it had seemed life could only get better: he kept his word to Kouichi and reconciled with his birth mother, rectified his poor treatment of his stepmother, and had a supportive group of friends who would be there for him come hell or high water. In time, however, he realized that nothing had changed at all. He and Kouichi still had their own lives and did not become as close as he had hoped, he was once again caught up with the banality of everyday living and for all intents and purposes, he might as well never have gone to the Digital World. Like the frantic men and women in the rush hour crowd, he had rushed from one destination to another without pausing to orient himself. It feels distinctly like... _I'm losing everything._ And just like that, Kouji was back to square one.

"An unexamined life," mused a voice in his head, "is not worth living." Once again, this is one of those moments when banal platitudes are wont to take on surprising new meanings.


	2. Disoriented

**Turns out it's going to be longer than 2 chapters, but I'm 99% sure it will not go past the 3rd- I already know how it's going to end. I really do wear myself out when I'm writing. And the nicely written things in italics? I wrote none of those. Translation of _War and Peace _belongs to Pevear and Volokhonsky. Carton and Lucie belong to Dickens, and the hobbits belong to Tolkien.**

Then someone roughly pushed against him. "Hey, watch it!" said the 30-something man in a black suit, looking harried, before glaring at him and running off. Kouji blinked. The harsh lights made for his eyes with an unfathomable rudeness and the sounds of the world washed over him like a tidal wave. He suddenly felt naked, outside of the comfort of his own home and the company of the one or two people who cared for him. Contemplating at the unrelenting torrent of people, an unnamed terror seized him. He is out, alone, in this world, and nobody cares about him. Out here, he is little more than another cog in the machine, perhaps one that needed to be knocked around some as other weary people scrambled to catch up with their lives.

These people are like a school of sardines, swimming without rhyme or reason, chasing some mirage; they don't even know they're in water. And so they, the mindless little cogs, trudge along without a real care in the world. What miserable creatures they are! He remembered de-digivolving after his second spirit evolution. He knelt, seeing red in all directions from sheer exhaustion, and out of that fog came a hand. Izumi's hand. He supposed she had a good reason to be friendly since he had saved her life, but as much as he tried to assign some other motive to her gesture of concern, he couldn't help noticing her persistence on other occasions. No. She had simply wanted to be his friend, despite how rudely he had treated her, and everyone else.

He remembered all the bickering with Takuya on Toy Island, but most strongly the uncharacteristic maturity he'd displayed when he decided to take Tomoki as his little brother. On that day, more than any other days, Takuya taught Kouji how to be a brother. Then he recalled the many opportunities they had to go home, since, to paraphrase the digimon, "this is not your fight". How resolutely they had stayed on then, without a thought for their own safety, motivated only by a vague sense of goodness that none of them had the wisdom to contemplate, yet felt so keenly. All of this, for a world that didn't even belong to them. He doesn't have to ask any of these mindless drones in front of him to know they would think the kids were crazy. _We _would never be like this, he thought.

Then, as if fate itself protested this thought, the image of their own sins surfaced in his mind like an ugly reflection. Izumi was staring with a blank expression when Takuya awkwardly tried to relay his life to her. Tomoki flat out fell asleep. It was barely five months ago: Junpei was talking about his latest gig when Kouji caught himself thumbing his phone, drumming out an outline for his _War and Peace_ essay, mulling over what makes foils of Pierre Bezukhov and Andrei Bolkonsky. "_Love? What is love? Love hinders death. Love is life. Everything, everything I understand, I understand only because I love." … Pierre felt a new, never yet experienced feeling of the joy and strength of life. And that feeling not only did not abandon him through all the time of his captivity, but, on the contrary, kept growing in him as the hardships of his situation increased. _The other boy clammed up and fell silent as Kouji quoted the novel to himself. So then Kouji, too, came out of the Digital World. And stopped caring.

In the alternate reality the same kids shed their worldly trappings and became shining beacons of nobility, with the ardor of beasts and the compassion of angels. _This_ is what humanity should be, and it's infuriating that real life could snuff it out of them so easily. What makes people care? What gives petty, unremarkable hobbits the courage to bear the burden of the world? What makes Sydney Carton mount the scaffold for Lucie Manette? What made them superheroes in another world and nobodies in this one? The hobbits knew they would have nothing left to defend if they didn't do it this once. Sydney Carton was a drunk and a scoundrel who cared for nobody and nobody, fittingly, cared for him. That is, until he met Lucie. He had a choice: he could always be a lowlife, or he could be something greater, and in death reclaim his life.

Then it hit him: they had nothing. Nothing, that is, except love. Love for each other and love for their higher purpose. Things were simple in the Digital World- they didn't have grades and parents and little brothers and girls to think about. They were fighting for their lives and everything that held meaning to them. In his time in the Digital World, death was ever present, yet Kouji never felt more alive; he knew why he was alive and what he had to do. Then real life came along and lulled him to sleep. It lulled all of them to sleep, and that's when he lost everyone, and everyone lost him. It is so easy, so mindless, go through the motions because they have everything to distract them from who they are and what really matters. And just like that, the Legendary Warriors died.

That's it? That's all his experiences in the Digital World have to offer him? For a moment there it seemed he would find the answers to all of his questions and even become a better person, but now all he has is misery. His world is changing; nothing is ever the same. His old dog died last week while he was a continent away. His parents' nest is empty- he could live there from time to time but he knows the days are numbered. One day, for some reason or another, he would never go back. Kouichi received a scholarship to the University of Hong Kong for his artistry. Tomoki lives in Kyoto and occupies his time with being a high school junior and a first-time boyfriend. Izumi divides her time between Tufts University and Tokyo, pursuing a career in industrial psychology. Junpei is consumed with his budding magician's career. And Kouji? He's still a confused Philosophy student, occasionally dabbling with mathematics. His past has been robbed from him and now he's just another boy at Shibuya Station with no name and no history and no purpose. Kouji has been stripped naked, like a babe, and dropped in the middle of a vast, dark ocean. The helpless infant is screaming, flailing and everything terrifies him. He tried to imagine his future, and drew blank.


	3. Where do we go from here?

**It took a lot of encouragement from one great reviewer, and a profound conversation I had with a friend today for me to finish this story. (and I just turned 20 two days ago, so... figures. I get older all the time.) I went back and changed the names to their Japanese conventions. I'm sorry. I don't know what made me use the English names in the first place but I've always used original names whenever I could in the past. Well, I hope this is a satisfying end to a pretty long-winded and introspective story. This chapter is definitely... different, both to write and I suspect, to read. I made their interaction like so because even though they probably love each other like brothers, the two have never been able to quite understand the other, and in my premise they haven't had a _proper_ conversation in ages, so it's a little weird for both parties. And if Kouji seems at times a little OOC, that's sort of the point, but I don't know how well I'd conveyed that (and no, I'm not going to tell you what the point is, not in this note at least, because that defeats the purpose).**

"Kouji?" A tentative voice interrupted his thoughts. _Huh?_ Kouji was a little startled.

"_Kouji!_ _No way!_" The voice exclaimed. It was deeper than he remembered, but there was no mistaking that voice.

"Takuya!" He wheeled around. "What the hell are you doing here?" Kouji stared at his old friend. Takuya's expression went from shock at his outburst to indignant.

"What? Am I not allowed to be here? I have as much right as you do!" Takuya said a little defensively.

"Whoa, chill out. I didn't _mean_ it like that!"

"Well, then get it straight! You can't always expect people to read your mind, you know, with manners like yours." Takuya grumbled, crossing his arms. "But anyway, to answer your question, I'm about to turn 20 and I just… _had_ to come back here, I guess. Don't know what that's going to accomplish, but hell, it can't hurt."

"What, like a lame 'final goodbye' kind of thing? Did something happen recently?" Kouji asked, sensing there's more to the story.

"No, not at all! … Well, er- yes. Er, I mean," Takuya started to stutter upon seeing Kouji's raised eyebrows. "I, er… dropped out of school."

"Oh, I see. You've _only_ dropped out of school. Nothing to see here." Kouji cut in sarcastically. As always, he expected a snappy comeback at his jibe, but to his surprise Takuya seemed even more thoughtful, if anything.

"It _did_ feel like nothing, that's the thing! You know what it took for me to do that? Well, a _huge_ argument with my parents, but that's expected." Takuya waved his hands dismissively at that. "But the rest is just… a _drop down menu._ A DROP DOWN MENU!" Takuya gestured wildly, as though words alone could not convey the absurdity of his predicament. "And a click of the button. Then TA-DA! I withdrew! Hello, world! I'm about to make a major life decision here! Some acknowledgement, please? You'd think dropping out of school warrants at least a tacky flash movie with epic soundtrack telling you all about how your life is going to shit from this point on, or you're giving up your destiny, or something. But no, _nothing_. And then it hit me, that my life only ever has any significance to _me_, and no one else. The computer doesn't care. The system administrator of the school portal probably doesn't care. My professors don't care…" He trailed off. Kouji said nothing and thoughtfully considered his words.

"_What_?" Takuya asked, suddenly uncomfortable with Kouji's silence.

"Once again, _nothing_. Come off it. You wanted to say something else but you're not saying it. I was just waiting for you to continue."

"I don't know. Sometimes I feel like you're always judging me." Kouji actually chuckled at that.

"You _really_ think I have the energy to judge you all the time? Although… You're right. I _do_ look like that a lot." He admitted.

"So you're not completely socially retarded." Takuya said somewhat lightheartedly.

"No, no. I am, but enough people tell me that and I'm starting to think maybe there's something to it. And stop changing the subject."

"Well, what do you want from me? Why I did it? As if I could tell you anything that isn't going to sound cheesy and new-agey!" Takuya felt like he'd had this conversation hundreds of time before, each time with someone different, but the result is always the same. They applauded his courage, but felt that the decision was irrational and nonsensical. There's always this whole spiel about how everyone felt like this at some point. He would get over it, like every adult on this planet, or he would go through with it and rue the day he dropped out when the bills start to pile up. He did not relish the thought of going through this process again.

"The reason. I don't care if it sounds stupid. A motive's a motive."

"My life's just been very… run of the mill. It was always like that, but after the digital world that wasn't much fun anymore. I just couldn't… go _on_ like this knowing what I'm capable of and what else is out there! I was studying _business_, of all things! Yeah, I sound very elitist right now, and business is perfectly respectable. But after saving the Digital World with you guys, I just want to be a part of something _bigger_: bigger than just me, bigger than just holding a stable job, and bigger than just eventually starting a family. I want to make a _difference_. Doesn't matter what it is. I want my life to be _great_, if you get my drift. And I _really_ think I can be something great."

"Look, nobody can say your life isn't _already_ great. Look at you! You saved two worlds!" Kouji reminded him.

"Yeah, when I was _eleven_. My life didn't end there, you know! Being great isn't just a one-time thing, and life isn't a movie where we only need _one_ crowning moment of awesome. I was a better person with you guys in the digital world. I became better than any normal goggle-brained kid like me had a right to be. But when I came back here, I went back to the way I was. I didn't think about anything other than when my next meal's going to be, and didn't consider anything more important than myself. I don't want to be like this anymore… I want to capture who I was when I was with you guys, saving the world, defeating Lucemon… You're going to say everyone who drops out says shit like this, but with me, it's different! Yeah, and then you're going to tell me everyone thinks he's different and unique and going to make it where others have failed, but come _on! _You and I, and Izumi and Junpei and Tomoki and Kouichi, there's nothing ordinary about what we've been through! Doesn't that count for _something_, at least? But what do we do with that now?"

"Takuya…" Kouji looked at him, amazed and at a loss for words.

"Kouji?"

"You've really changed from when I first met you. You never used to think."

"Haha. Well. If I still acted like I was eleven after all these years I'd be a pretty pathetic human being." Takuya laughed, breaking the serious mood from before. He went on, "but there _were_ something precious in those days, weren't there? I guess we have to pick and choose which parts of us we want to leave behind."

"You're right. And the good things we want to keep, we have to remember what it was like."

"It occurred to me that the six of us will probably never be a true group again. I want to go back, but then maybe if I'd _really_ gone back it'd end up totally pointless."

"It _would_ be pathetic if you keep going back to the same point in your life!" Kouji seemed amused by this idea. "I think the real trick behind this is what attitude we decide to take with our past, both good and bad. It's time we moved on…"

"But we'll never let them go." Takuya finished. "We'll always remember our adventures and our friends and what they meant, and it wouldn't be all for nothing. It's just so easy to forget where we've been and where we're going when you're in the thick of it."

"Hey, whoever said living the good life is easy?" Kouji elbowed Takuya playfully, grinning widely. Then he grew serious. "This is probably the cheesiest I'll ever be in my life, but I really believe you'll make it, Takuya, school or no. If anyone in the world can do it, you can. You're the Legendary Warrior of Fire. Never forget that."

"Heh. This is also the _nicest_ you've ever been in your life. What _happened_ to you?" Takuya teased, throwing up his arms in mock exasperation.

"You're the one to talk! Look at all your philosophizing! Who'd have thought _you_ could string together half a thought!"

"This is all your fault," Takuya said, shoving him in jest. "Look at what you made me do! Just being _around_ you makes me turn into a surly old codger, _like you_!" At that, Kouji laughed in earnest, the first time he truly laughed for… as long as he could remember. Maybe someone understood him after all.

"Takuya, were you going to…" Kouji gestured towards the elevator's control panel.

"Huh? NO. You're _not_ doing something that crazy!" Realization dawned.

"What, you scared? You're chickening out on me?" Kouji taunted. "Scared of what you'll find?"

"Are you taunting me? Because you're not getting away with that!"

"Then prove it, Kanbara. Prove you're not a chicken." With that, Kouji punched the button and grabbed Takuya's jacket from the back. The elevator door opened.

"Hey. Wait a minute!" Takuya protested.

"Oh no you're not!" With a determined tug, the two boys were trapped in the elevator. The door slid shut, and with a groan of a waking beast, the elevator began its descent into the abyss…

_"But soon I shall leave this town, perhaps for a long time, so we shall part. Let us make a compact here, at Ilusha's stone, that we will never forget Ilusha and one another... You must know that there is nothing higher and stronger and more wholesome and good for life in the future than some good memory, especially a memory of childhood, of home. People talk to you a great deal about your education, but some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education. If a man carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe to the end of his days, and if one has only one good memory left in one's heart, even that may sometime be the means of saving us." _**- Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov, from The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, trans. Constance Garnett**


End file.
